


Hardships Lead to New Beginnings

by Changfriedrice



Category: Alita: Battle Angel (2019), GUNNM | Battle Angel Alita
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anger, Angst, Comfort, Dark Alita, F/F, Hurt, Personality Swap, Rage, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Changfriedrice/pseuds/Changfriedrice
Summary: Nothing is ever as expected. Alita learned that the hard way. Relentlessly beaten to the ground until only remnants are left, her future lays uncertain, shrouded in blackness.A blackness she can choose to fight. Or she can choose to embrace it.Set one year after the end of the movie. Dark AU.





	Hardships Lead to New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all,
> 
> Like many who watched the new Alita: Battle Angel movie, I wanted much, much more than what the movie left us to ponder with. I mean, wow! Seriously, my expectations were blown. I hadn't read the manga ever, but just by watching the movie I could tell that there could be a million possibilities as to where the plot was taken next (please, please, PLEASE let there be a sequel and let it be soon). So this work is essentially a product of one out of the million ways I feel like the story could go, although I must warn you: it's probably not going to happen this way. And I say that with certitude because this story is/going to be dark. Like, really dark. So read at your discretion, and please leave comments that are full of eagerness or criticism, whatever you feel.

* * *

 

 

The night was like any other night: gloomy, dark, and cold - the kind of night that Alita thrived in. A stark comparison to the communal worship and obstinate perseverance of perfection that cast a shroud of delusion upon the city's inhabitants. Not that Alita was ever present during the day to care, anyways.

  
Crime rates were low, people existed harmoniously. It was the perfect haven, described by all those below. It was all she had expected, yet fulfilling those expectations was what made it undesirable. People went about their careers and hobbies by day, and when nighttime came, descended into passion like feral animals. There were no inhibitions, nor thought. They just _did._ A lifestyle acquiesced by the first hour, but warmed up by the second. It was like being trapped in a tiny box that perpetually shrank as the days passed. Only to those who lived here, there was no box. Because no one shared her sentiments. Except for one.

  
When Alita pretends hard enough, there is no box either.

  
The bar was unlike anything she had seen the first time passing through, but with her limited expertise on what bars looked like to begin with, she let the judgement slide. After all, Kansas was the only bar she had frequented, and back then, it was just a group of macho bounty hunter men who did little more than flex their prestige and a select few women who would have appeared out of place had it not been for the perpetual sneers and intimidating art tattooed on their bodies. Regardless of cyborgs or humans, she had expected no more than three fights to break out every visit.

  
But this bar, this bar was different. There was no such thing as bounty hunters here, because there wasn't even a comprehension on what the word criminal meant. Murder was as nonexistent as her lack of disgust. There was no fighting. Not in the angry sense, anyways.

  
The obnoxious music was loud, almost deafening so that Alita had to shout _if_ she were to make conversation with anyone. Two humans sit to her left, chatting away obliviously, absorbed in their own little perfect world. There was a dance floor directly behind her, smeared and compacted with so many individuals that it was a wonder the floor didn't give away.

  
The place was far more occupied than usual, so much so that even in her state of mind, the box was back. No matter how much she fought to pretend, the box wouldn't vanish.

  
She was nursing her sixth drink now, cupping it between her two hands like her life depended on it. Which, honestly, wasn't a far off estimate. The warmth and sound of the liquid sloshing about its contents had a mystifying allure. Something Alita could always rely on to put her in a different place, one where the other voice in her head stayed silent.

  
"Another one?"

  
Alita cranes her head up to see the same face she had seen for the entire night. And pretty much every night before that for the last few weeks. Deep blue eyes that contrasted with vibrant gold hair, stretching past the woman's shoulders until the curls rested right at her chest. A heart-shaped face with full lips that pursed every time someone made an offhanded comment about the woman's figure. A compassionate psyche, one that had to remain hardened at her occupation, but softened considerably whenever Alita wormed her way into the dimly lit corner.

  
With a smile that was probably more a grimace, Alita wiggled two fingers her direction. A drink slid over, light bluish in nature, almost so bright that it glowed in the dark. It was something strong. Much stronger than human alcohol, but she wasn't human.

At least, not anymore.

  
So it doesn't burn her throat when she drinks it. But it does intoxicate her.

  
"You look like shit," the bartender says casually. And it was so startling to her - that this was the first time anyone had ever made conversation with her in this sort of dingy place - that her jaw slightly dropped and she did a double take, looking around her to make sure that the bartender's attention was directed to her and not one of the other patrons.

  
Debating on how to respond, she finally came up with a lackluster, "I feel like shit" line.

  
The bartender chuckles. "Wanna talk about it?"

  
It only occured to her now that she never learned the name of the woman across from her. Alita has to squint to see the little badge pinned on the fabric over her breast. A task difficult in nature, for her voluminous hair covered half of it.

"What's it to you, Evelynn?" she stressed, barely concealing the acerbic tone her voice slurred.

  
"It's not." The woman flashed a grin, ignoring Alita's hostile tone, seemingly appeased by the way her name rolled off Alita's tongue.

  
Alita didn't know how to respond to that, so she just simply grunted in response. But an odd crinkling crept up her arm. The fact that this person had spoken to her and had an open ear for Alita's problems was like a bothersome itch she couldn't scratch away, no matter how hard she tried. An itch that manages to coerce her into reluctantly renewing their chitchat.

  
"I don't know you."

  
"Are you sure? Out of all the bartenders in this club, you've been coming to me for service."

  
Alita frowned, unsure of whether the woman was providing friendly banter or if her words were flirtacious. Perhaps it was a bit of both. And Alita would rather eat the glass her drinks were poured in than admit that she perhaps was intrigued by the woman.

  
Evelynn stopped cleaning Alita's empty glasses and paused for a split second, as if deciding whether she should really vocalize her thoughts.

  
"I don't usually mingle in people's business. Everyone has their own secrets, but I have to say, I've never seen them coming in every day for the last three weeks and drinking themselves until they pass out. And then _someone_ -" she jabbed her finger at herself, shaking her head, "-has to smack you repeatedly in the head and call you a cab to drag you home, wherever that is."

  
So that's how Alita kept winding back home. Well, at least that answered one of many pointless questions floating aimlessly around in her mind.

  
"The people here don't have secrets. It's a utopia, one where everyone is blissfully happy," she says, reciting it almost like a mantra. "And completely unaware," she muttered as an afterthought.

  
"Don't think I didn't hear that last part."

  
"What's it to you?" she asked again.

  
"You, coming in here every night. By yourself. And that alone makes me think that you either just arrived, or want to escape. And if history repeats itself, it's probably the latter."

  
"Are you sure you should be telling me this?"

  
"Because we _just_ introduced ourselves, or because what we're sharing is clandestine?"

  
"Technically, we haven't even done that. I've read your name off that little piece of plastic that looks as if it could fall off your shirt any moment now, and I highly doubt you know my name, let alone who I am, so-"

  
"Alita. Your name is Alita."

  
She vaguely heard the way her name trickled down the woman's tongue like soft honey, and for a second, for a split second, Alita shivered as tingles ran down her spine. But as brief as it had come, it went just as fast.

  
The woman sticks out her hand, staring at Alita expectantly. Alita couldn't help but look at how those soft palms called out to her, inviting her in with an air of familiarity. She told herself this was a poor mistake, a silly conundrum that could be solved by just standing up and leaving, but-

  
She shakes her hand, basking in the warm glow. But then she quickly pulls away.

  
"It's nice to meet you, Alita," she says with a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

  
"Likewise," she mumbles, feeling far too vulnerable with the way Evelynn looked at her.

"So now that you're done being smart with me, what were we saying?"

  
Maybe it was the alcohol, but Alita blushes furiously at the suggestive nature of Evelynn's voice.

  
"You don't let up, do you?"

  
"I've been called persistent before. And like I said, everyone's here for a reason. I can see that look in your eyes. You've been meaning to leave, haven't you?"

  
"And like I said," Alita mimicked. "Are you sure you should be talking to me about this?"

  
Evelynn shrugged. "Will you remember it in the morning?"

  
"Technically, it's already four hours into the morning."

  
"Smartass. Will you remember it by the time you come back again later tonight?"

  
Alita thinked to herself, tapping her finger uncoordinatedly on her bottom lip. "No. Probably not."

  
"Then I don't see what the issue is."

  
And for the first time in three weeks, Alita's anger tilted over the edge, exacerbated by her drunken state, and everything she held in spilled out in a tumultuous roar.

  
"The issue? The issue. You've got to be joking. What isn't the issue about this forsaken place? The humanity? Is there anyone here clinging on to the remnants of what makes them who they are? Everyone has conformed to one mindset. They're all just robots in disguise, and you're here, the first person I've met who _isn't_ , and you're telling me there's no repercussions for speaking out like this?"

  
"I never said that. Hence why it's a good thing that you won't remember this tomorrow."

  
"You really want me to forget? Then pour me another one of these...what do you call them?"

  
"Bloars." The tinkle in the woman's eyes disappears. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut you off."

  
"What?! You're joking." Alita's eyes grew wide and she tapped her armor. A screen projected outwards, one that anyone could see. "I'm certainly not out of money."

  
"You've been getting worse and worse. From first coming in like a curious child to now a bitter sporadic individual about to combust, your condition has worsened."

  
"Condition." Alita sneered, mocking the word. She gazed heavily into the other woman's eyes, straining herself to not pass out from the blurriness seeping into her vision. Mustering as much hate as possible, she spat, "I'd rather have this so-called condition than be one of you _humans_."

  
Her vision blurred so much that she couldn't even see the bartender's face clearly anymore, but if she did, she would have seen the flicker of hurt stretch across Evelynn's genteel features.

  
"Do you need me to call you a cab?"

  
Alita waved her off. "I think I can manage myself. Thanks." She got up wobbly to go, but yelped when a surprisingly strong and warm hand yanked her back down onto the stool and pulled her closer. So close to the bartender that instead of the acrid smell of alcohol filtering into her nostrils, it was the woman's perfume instead. Light, and assaulting. Like Alita's favorite fruit before she lost her appetite. Oranges.

  
Evelynn whispered something into Alita's ears. Whatever it was, she couldn't process it quickly enough, because the next thing she knew, she was hobbling into a cab, fighting the urge to vomit and pass out. How she made it home, no one knew.

  
It wasn't until she collapsed onto her bed, forgoing her sheets and opting to lay naked instead that one thought, one thought only, pierced her sleepiness like a shining dawn of comprehension.

  
Evelynn didn't stop serving her drinks because she was overboard with her behavior. Maybe, just maybe, she stopped because there was someone else in this forsaken place other than Alita that wanted out.

 

* * *

 

She didn't know what she was going to expect. Some modicum of relief, some eternal acceptance. Questions that brimmed the surface of her mind ever since her time with Ido. Answers to what she sought. Answers to who she was.

  
She got none of the answers she wanted, but all of the answers that were unexpected. And now, she was nothing but a hollow shell. Filled with inner contempt, lacking the spirit she once had. The fight inside her had gone out. Now a lingering evil filled her, festering, rotting her state of mind until who she was became a blur.

  
Even her dreams were no longer hers.

  
Alita stirred, her stomach giving her a urgent signal. This was the only warning she received before she turned on her side and retched all the contents of last night onto the polished, sterile white floor beneath her bed.

  
_I told you not to overdo it again._

  
"Shut up," she said, clamoring to her feet but falling back down in bed when as her muscles gave away. "Shut up," she said again, weakly this time. At least she was unconscious when they did it this time, and not awake and screaming. With motor memory, her eyes flickered to her left, trying not to scream as she steadily counted the silent dripping of the black viscous fluid that wormed its way through the tube that ran its way into Alita's forearm. The unknown fluid seeped into her body, weakening her, absorbing all her life. Her Panzer Kunst, her agility, speed, everything. Alita could feel it draining her. Killing her.

  
If it was anything else in her system, Alita's natural defense would obliterate the intruder within seconds, smashing them until it was a speck of nothingness. But this intruder was different. It weakened her body, loosened her energy until she could focus no more. And as a result, she was perpetually poisoned. Slowly, but surely. Mornings were the worst. By lunchtime, the brunt of the pain was gone, but side effects still lingered. Dinnertime was Alita felt most like herself but had to resort to _drinking_ , out of all things. Drinking her problems away, so that she wouldn't have to feel the mind-numbing pain again at dawn.

  
Alita grunts, and when she regains use of her quivering limbs, the first thing she does is pull the needle out of her arm. Black pus oozes out of the tiny hole that the needle inserted into, and Alita placed her shaking hand over it, feeling the coldness of the liquid seep around her fingers.

  
_I wouldn't do that._

  
Ignoring the voice in her head, Alita gathered herself and mustered the energy to return to the restroom. She was feeling extremely nauseous now, but as a manifestation of the medication she was given, not from the mild alcohol poisoning the night before. Which was a shame, really. The entire purpose of her expeditions to Slur was to get shit-faced so she wouldn’t be stuck in the nightmare she called life.

  
This time, she tucked herself into bed. She had to, because it took everything she had to not scream at the coldness in her veins.

 

* * *

 

Why she was outside, Alita had no clue. There was something sinister about her new home, with the sterile floor and walls so shiny they reflected her gaunt state. There was something missing. All of it was just one washed canvas of nothingness. The same color for every room. White. Even her bedsheets were white. There was no speck of dust anywhere. And if there was, or if Alita even much so as sneezed, there goes her privacy.

  
Not that she had any to begin with anyway, with the monster lurking in her head.

  
Alita tugged on the hood of her jacket until it draped over her head and scornfully judged all the city's inhabitants bustling about. Plastic smiles, rigid postures, and just exhilarating greetings.

"Hey, Dave! Long time no see!"

  
"Did you hear the news yesterday? So blessed the Little Ruggers won!"

  
"Last night was just spectacular! Slur really is the place to go!"

  
"Rumor has it someone tried to sneak in a book from outside..."

  
Now the last one piqued Alita's interest, or whatever amount she had left in her to care. That was news to her. And to the rest of this world. She began to pivot toward the direction of that curious voice, but was stopped by a more sinister one.

  
_Alita, sweetheart. How many times must I tell you to not lead yourself astray from our goals?_

  
"Shut up," she muttered. A few passerby glanced at the tiny, sheathed girl talking to herself, offering her pleasant smiles that were meant to convey wholehearted empathy but she saw it as nothing more than empty platitudes.

  
The voice chuckled inside her head.

  
_I'm surprised to see you out in the city, Alita. Perhaps my creation is finally rubbing off on you._

  
"Stupid, stupid! Get out of my head!" Alita took the palms of her hands and beat them against her temples. "Just leave me alone!"

  
_As you wish. Just remember one thing: you agreed to this._

  
She took her hands off her head and stared at them, clenching her fingers just like the day she was reborn for greatness, in Iron City by Ido's side. Greatness that fizzled out into nothing. She was no longer destined for greatness. She was a nobody.

  
"This was the cost."

  
After that dreadful exchange, Alita didn't feel like doing much of anything else. But she continued to trek deeper and deeper into the city, presuming that if she went a certain distance, she'd forget the way back home.

  
Her home.

  
The word left a bitter taste on her tongue every time she thought it, and with it, regret. Her home was where there was a lack of decorations, a lack of anything idiosyncratic that labelled what she was. Her home had none of the smiles and concern Ido had. It had none of the noisy bustle outside during all hours of the night. Not this place. No one should call this place home.

  
She eventually ventured into what seemed to be a mass shopping plaza. If it were not for the abundancy of goods being exchanged by the hands of the people, she would've thought it to be another synonymous building. They were all the same. Manufactured behemoths that beamed like skyscrapers, state-of-the-art technology that was so advanced that Iron City was at least three hundred years behind schedule. Tall, reflective, and sleek, without a trace of dust anywhere, for the government recruited robots; tiny, little things that reached no taller than Alita, and their only job was to vacuum and cleanse the dirt from the ground of which the citizens walked upon.

  
One of the vendors was selling fruit-flavored sticks.

  
"Hello, young lady!" the woman in charge greeted with an overly amount of zeal. Her voice was nasally, high-pitched, and Alita wanted nothing else but to rip her vocal cords out.

  
"My name is Bar, and I absolutely adore any purchases you make. Is there anything I can help you with? Anything at all?"

  
The woman adorns a white uniform that stretched from the top of her neck down to her toes. Her top was a sealed leather long-sleeved shirt that hugged her body tight, followed by white pocketless latex pants with an even whiter belt looped through. Her shoes were the most simplistic of all, laceless simple white oval shaped blocks that sized themselves accordingly to the wearer's feet. And, like every individual, she wore a nameplate over her right breast with her name, age, and occupation.

  
If Bar had any questions about why Alita was the only one wearing a dark cape, or why she didn't have her own nameplate, she made sure not to ask. For only a select few individuals had the privilege to wear a shade darker than white, and even fewer had the right to remain anonymous.

  
It was one of the only rules Alita had no qualms to following. She preferred it, actually, being faceless and nameless. As if it was one of the last things she still had control over. Her name.

  
"Do you have anything orange-flavored?"

  
"Do we?!" Bar gushed, and with a new spring in her step, led Alita to a shelf filled with little sticks reminiscent of a tiny stick of gum, no bigger than her fingernail.

  
"Here. Whatever you want, it's yours! We have an amazing discount going on right now, for all of our inventory! We have blood oranges, sitrus aurantiums, kumquats, pomelos, tangelos, clementines, and..."

  
Alita tuned the woman out, letting her drone on and on about the different types of oranges she didn't give two shits about. Instead, she quickly and randomly posited a few dozen sticks into a motorized basket and selected the button to check out. The cart zoomed over to Alita's arm, and after she pulled up the payment screen, there was a short click and then an even shorter beep as her purchase was verified.

  
"O-Oh, wow!" the woman broke her out of her reverie, and Alita observed as Bar's eyes swept over to the holographic display of Alita's resources.

  
"You must have a lot of connections with that sort of money!" And Alita knows, she just knows by staring at the small quiver of jealousy in the woman's voice that these humans still do experience human emotions. But faster than the blink of an eye, the unceasing smile was back, plastered on like a frail doll. And suddenly, suddenly Alita was so desperate to see another glimpse of it that she couldn't stop the words tumbling out of her mouth.

  
"Did you hear about the person who tried to smuggle in a book from outside?"

  
The change was immediate. At her words, the woman stilled. And then she gave another one of her beaming smiles, but this time it was strained. And as an interesting development, her usual glassy eyes were filling with something else entirely: panic.  
"No," she rushed out, far too quickly to be real. "No, I haven't! Zalem needs to be rid of those sort of filth. Whoever does this sort of thing is no better than the common criminal you see in Iron C-"

  
"Fuck!" At Alita's outburst, the woman jumps in the air, leaving all of her cheery pretense behind.

  
"Fuck! Does no one here know how to behave at all?!" she started, shoving her fist inside the woman's personal area and shaking it haphazardly. "Who are you?"

  
"My name is Bar. I don't unders-"

  
"What are you, programmed? I say this, and you have a prebuilt answer to say something polite back? I can insult you whichever way you like and you take it up the ass like an obedient mule?"

  
"T-That wouldn't be nice, but-"

  
Her voice cuts off when Alita smashes her fist into her cart. Much to her surprise and pleasure, she managed to leave an ample dent in the tough infrastructure.

  
"Miss, you'll have to p-"

  
"Thanks for these oranges," Alita snarled, biting an orange-flavored stick in half and spitting it at Bar. "They're delicious. Just about another fucking thing you guys can't comprehend."

  
"I-I-"

  
"Do the citizens of Zalem have no backbone?" Alita continued, spinning around and yelling for all to hear. "You just ride along with wherever the wind takes you? I knew of more cyborgs in the trash heap you call Iron City that behaved more human than any one of you. The only time you even have a remote semblance is when you're busy _fucking_ each other in the clubs."

  
That caught more than a few people's attention, and they all shifted uncomfortably at the crude language Alita spewed. Just another reason of many to try to leave.

  
Alita opened her mouth to continue her tirade but abruptly dropped to her knees as a familiar sharp pain erupted inside her head.

  
_You have stepped out of line, Alita._

  
This time, there was no playful mockery. The voice was cautious and angry, latching its tendrils around Alita's brain and squeezing. Hard.

  
"G-Get away from me," Alita gasped. She tried to latch onto something with one of her hands, but it slips and she crumbles back down to the ground.

  
_Have you forgotten our agreement? Let me remind you._

  
The pain in her head grows so severe that Alita's vision blurs. Like sharp needles stabbing her from all sides. She screamed.

  
"F-Fuck you, Nova! Get out of my head!"

  
_No. I gave you a choice. A choice you willingly took. And I gave you chances, chances to prove yourself. A reason for me not to rip everything away from you. And all you've done is throw it back into my face._

  
Alita could make no sounds other than whimpers. The pain was gaining in intensity, becoming so insurmountable that it took all her focus not to black out. Bar, the store vendor, was ten paces back, frozen still.

  
_This is your punishment. One day, you'll see where you are meant to be and perhaps we'll rule together. But that day is not today._

  
And then she felt it. Something inside her snapped. One second it was there, and the next, it was gone. She felt her brain snap, and just like that, Alita's head hit the ground with a dull thud as she lost consciousness.  
The last thing she smelled was oranges.

 

* * *

 

When she woke, she was laying in her bed. A shuffling noise reverberates off to the side and she flickers her eyelids cautiously to the sight of being tucked in.

  
"Don't move," the nurse said. "You could start flaring again."

  
“W-What happened?” she croaked, licking her lips at how dry they were. Her eyes flickered to the woman, absorbing her bright clothes and even brighter smile.

  
“Nothing to be worried about, dear. All you need now is time to recover.”

  
And then, Alita remembered.

  
The nurse tsked. “You caused quite the commotion in Courtyard Four. Fortunately, Nova stepped in. Those poor Tiphareans." She shook her head.

  
"You need your energy.”

  
Alita cachinnates in a display of bitterness.

  
“What’s the point in recovering if I’m just going to be beaten down again?”

  
There was an itch on Alita’s forehead. She raised her arm in a futile attempt to rub it away.

  
“Please don’t move,” the nurse repeats, pushing her forearm back down to her side. “You’ll tear the needle out.”

  
Alita’s eyes grew wide and she jerked to the side. Dread filled her lungs, swamping her until she could no longer breathe.

  
“N—No!” she choked. “Please, no more medication. I’ll down anything! Anything Nova wants! Just don’t—”

  
Her words fell flat when she saw the woman’s grin grow wider.

  
“I’m sorry, but I can’t control your treatment cycles. Please consider speaking to—”

  
“No—”

  
“But don’t worry. This isn’t that.” Alita’s eyes follows the jerk of the nurse’s neck as her vision trails down to the needle. Instead of a pitch-black mucosal liquid seeping inside her, it was clear.

  
“An energy charge.”

  
“An energy charge,” Alita echoes in relief. “An energy charge.” She leaned back into her sheets, pressing her free hand over her tachycardic heart.

  
“Its effects are as follows: rejuvenated sleep-wake cycle, enhanced nanoboosters, decompressed joints and muscular articulations, clearer thought process-"

  
The nurse continued on and on, seemingly unable to stop now that she had started. Alita soon tuned her out, lost in her own thoughts.

  
"Why?" she whispered.

  
Her caretaker stiffly sat down. Then: "I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

  
"Why?" Alita repeated, choking out the word this time.

  
"Why...do you mean why He is doing this?"

  
At Alita's frail nod, she continued.

  
"Only Nova and Nova alone has his reasons. I am not allowed to know. My only duties are to serve you and make sure you are receiving the treatment prescribed."

  
Alita stared off towards the blank wall, void of any decor.

  
“I’m going crazy," she murmured.

  
The woman smiles at her display. There's a pillow resting on the ground and she picks it up, fluffing it until it appeared satisfactory.

  
"Rest assured, dear, you’re perfectly normal. There is nothing to be concerned about here."

  
There was a lingering pause.

  
"I'm not talking about Nova. I'm talking about - you know, why do I even bring any of this up? What's the point? Anything I say is going to be answered with a smile and false promises. That's all this has ever been. This city..." Alita blinked furiously, willing the first tear to recede back into its dark corner. "It's built on emptiness."

  
She turned to the nurse, who was eerily still.

  
"But you don't feel that way, do you? You're content with the life you have here, aren't you? A sterile home and a family to return home to at night. Moderate status in the workforce, a well-paying job. Blindly following orders like a loyal dog, unaware of when the hand that feeds you decides to dispose of you, until it's too late," Alita's voice grew harsher with every coming word. "Are you even human?"

  
"Why of course I am! Aren't we...all?"

  
Alita grits her teeth and tried again.

  
"A human is someone who feels emotions, not just a false front emanating happiness. A human being is one who cries, gets angry, laughs, and loves. A human being is one who isn't scared to speak their mind, someone who is a sentient creature that has the capacity to create works of art and literature, someone who is self-aware, curious, and muses on the smallest of things."

  
The nurse shook her head, staring at her with obvious concern. “I’m sorry, dear. I'm not understanding you."

  
Incontrovertible fire licked in Alita's eyes for a second, but then the fight deflated like a punctured balloon. Her shoulders slumped into the pillows and the taut lines of her poised face vanished.  
"Of course not," she chuckled sinisterly. "I don't know why I keep trying. It's the old me, I guess."

  
Then, in a much softer tone, she said,

  
"Can I be alone now?"

  
"Of course, dear," the nurse replies. There was a flickering emotion on her face, so brief that a human wouldn't have been able to detect it. But Alita could.

  
Relief.

  
They talked like them. They behaved like them. They _felt_ like them. The nurse was human. She had to be. And yet, these people were deprived.

  
With nothing else to do in her home, Alita turned her head, resting her cheek on a pillowcase that slowly dampened as the minutes passed by. The only sound in the room was the steady hum as the energy charge poured into her body. She always was a silent crier.

  
She was tired. Not the typical exhausted tired, but the kind of tired that worked its way deep into her bones and had her contemplating whether Iron City was worth her sacrifice. For the first time in a long time, Alita doubted herself. And with it, came a vulnerable feeling of worthlessness. As if her time was up, and all that she would ever be was a fallen goddess, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

  
Her last behest had been trivial. Because no matter how many people she met here, she would always be alone.

  
She had been for the last year.

 

* * *

 

A month ago, the setting would have made Alita feel inapposite. Slur was one of the most prestigious bars, if not the most. After the sun set was when the citizens of Zalem truly did exhibit signs of humanity. The club was only for those with invitations, and with them came prestige. Alita couldn’t tell how wealthy anyone was with the way they were dressed, but regularly rounds of heavy drinking and public intoxication gave way to people presenting their forearms and thus, their affluence as a symbol of power.

  
The music blared, a deep bass sound that trembled the floor beneath her feet and rattled her organs. Raucous shouting and intimate noises alike permeated her senses. Now that lifestyle she could never encompass.

  
Back then, she hated it. But now, it offered her a sense of privacy.

  
“The usual?” Evelynn chirped.

  
Alita found that she wanted to hate the woman’s enthusiasm but couldn’t, and she was disgusted with herself at how her mood already seemed to improve with just two words from the bartender.

  
She grunted, pulling herself onto the stool. The hood of her cloak toppled backwards and she quickly pulled it back over before resuming her slouched posture.

  
“I’ll take that as a yes.”

  
Alita’s eyes inadvertently zoned in on Evelynn’s nimble fingers as she twirled a tiny glass around with one hand and raised her other above her head before tilting it forward, gracefully manipulating the glowing blue liquid into Alita’s glass.

  
Evelynn slid the glass over.

  
“Want to pay for all your drinks now?”

  
Alita eyebrow twitched. “Since when did we start talking?” she grumbled.

  
Evelynn’s smile drooped slightly, but it was enough for an odd, floaty feeling to rise up in Alita’s chest.

  
“I take it you don’t remember anything last night.”

  
“Just pain.”

  
At that, Evelynn laughed. And it was such a pure sound, but Alita wasn’t sharing her sentiments, and the bartender’s laughs died down when she realized Alita wasn’t kidding.

  
“You’re not being serious, are you?”

  
Alita shrugged, not caring much for conversation anymore. As a matter of fact, at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to chug as many drinks as it took to get her in a well-inebriated state. So that’s what she did.

  
“Six…Bloars.”

  
Evelynn gave her the stink eye.

  
“Take it easy, Alita. Nurse that one in those tiny hands of yours first.”

  
And there it was. The weird tingling feelings crepitating along her the tips of her fingers, spreading through her hands and arms until it surrounded her being in warmth. All from her name spoken by a stranger.

  
“How do you know my name?”

  
“How could I not know your name?” Evelynn jabbed back.

  
Alita was suddenly presented with a brief flashback from last night when Evelynn said something very similar. Which means they _did_ talk last night, but her other memories were still in a locked box stuffed in the corner of her mind.

  
“Unlike you, I fancy my privacy. I don’t have a nameplate,” she worded slowly, fighting the urge to look down at her chest to see if there was a badge fastened on her lapel.

  
Evelynn waved a hand in the air carelessly.

  
“You poor girl,” she tsked “You really are lost, aren’t you?”

  
Alita felt a rise of defensiveness at her words.

  
“What do you mean?” she asked. Her voice was held as steady as possible, but she was sure there was still a hint of a snarl engrained.

  
Evelynn chuckled, not put off in the slightest at Alita’s defensive behavior.

  
“You truly think tonight is the first time we’ve spoken to each other?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Oh.

  
“Yes.”

  
Evelynn chuckled again, and their conversation fell silent. Alita quickly threw down the rest of her drink, and was quite pleased to see another one slide her way as soon as she set her empty glass down on the polished marble counter.

  
Evelynn left shortly to attend to other patrons after depositing Alita’s second drink, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that only ruminated on the mysterious and slightly frustrating woman in front of her. But a few minutes later, she had come back, hovering around the corner of the bar where Alita was sitting, giving the girl space until it was time for a new glass.

  
“Why do you wear those stupid things anyways?” Alita asked, after taking a sip on her fifth drink, finally breaking the silence.

  
Evelynn points to her nametag. “This thing?”

  
Alita nods.

  
“I don’t know,” Evelynn admitted.

  
Alita’s right eyebrow raised.

  
“You don’t know?”

  
“Do you have a problem with your hearing?”

  
The eyebrow crept higher.

  
“If I did, I wouldn’t hear you over this racket.”

  
“There’s a bar-only section in this club, you know.”

  
Even higher.

  
“Are you ignoring the subject?”

  
“Why does it matter?” Evelynn finally confessed. “It’s not like I had a choice in the matter. It’s martial law. Everyone wears them. Everyone…” she hesitated. “Except you,” she tapered off to a whisper.

  
There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of them, so distinct that Alita could sense it even with all the noisy ruckus surrounding them.

  
“Who are you, really?” Evelynn finally asked.

  
Alita took some time to her own thoughts, displeased at the shift in the focus of conversation.

  
“I-I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Sometimes I question that myself. I feel so…” she tried to settle on a solitary word. “Lost.”

  
Evelynn harrumphed. “With thoughts like that, it’s no wonder you feel out of place here. I think it’s safe to say that the entire structure of which this city was built upon – the ideologies, manifestos, and conventional beliefs – is completely alien to you. It’s as if…” Evelynn’s voice fell into a hush so soft she had to lean forward.

  
“You’re not from _there_ …are you?”

  
Alita’s stomach clenched.

  
“From where?” she gritted.

  
“From…” Evelynn took a deep breath. “From Iron City.”

  
Alita froze, but forced herself to relax as to not draw attention from Evelynn. But Alita knew. She just knew by the look in Evelynn’s face that her momentarily tense posture answered the brimming question on the forefront of the bartender’s mind.  
And now, it was up to her to respond accordingly.

  
Alita bites her tongue. “No,” she lied, and refused to elucidate.

  
Disappointment stretched across Evelynn’s features. Alita knew she had failed Evelynn’s test, but it was more a testament to her personal will. She was in no mental condition to revisit what her life had been. Because doing so would be comparing it to her life now.

  
“All that secrecy coming from you, and it still sounds like a better life than mine.”

  
Alita immediately took offense.

  
“Don’t think you know anything about my life,” Alita snarled, banging her fists on the table, knocking over her half-empty glass. Immediate regret filled her at the sight. A vacuum robot leapt onto the counter and began suctioning the mess.

  
Evelynn raised both her hands up in a gesture of peace.

  
“Whoa, there! I’m not trying to put that sort of message on the table. I just think you’re a unique case, that’s all.”

  
At Alita’s silence, she continued.

  
“You walk in here with your cute little black cloak every day, hidden in your own world. I daresay that our small talks at wee hours of the morning could substantiate to me formulating an accurate description of your life, but damn! I mean, from what I’ve seen, nothing confines you. There’s no box for you to fit in. You’re like a free spirit. But me? This city has its hold locked onto me. All I am and ever will be is a bartender. And though I’m a damn good one, at the end of the day, that’s all I am. Someone who lives to serve other people.” She looked over Alita’s shoulders to the dance floor, mild disdain flickering across her face. “Yep. Just a lousy bartender.”

  
Alita caught on to the wistful intonation of her voice. And she chastised herself, she really did, but it was like her hands had a mind of their own, leaving her drink and pressing them over Evelynn’s hand.

  
“You’re not just a bartender. You’re whatever you want to be. Don’t let this city define who you are.”

  
Evelynn looked down at their clasped hands. Alita’s eyes followed, and they were just so, so warm, as if Evelynn’s hands were sheltering her from all the monstrosities outside.

  
And in.

  
Then Evelynn pulled away, and Alita felt a flash of disappointment.

  
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she giggled, and even in the dark atmosphere, Alita could see a blush make way onto her face.

  
With a strange feeling in her stomach, Alita tried to play it off casually.

  
“Yeah, well,” she shrugged. “Don’t milk it.”

  
“Oh, I will,” Evelynn’s grin grew, and she opened her mouth to say something but was beckoned abruptly beckoned away by a customer.

  
"I'll be back," she said.

  
Alita was left in her own thoughts yet again. The woman that was over the counter pouring a variety of drinks for all who came was truly an enigma, one that reminded Alita of what her previous past had been.

  
Free.

  
She downed the rest of drink in one go, feeling slightly buzzed now. She loudly hiccuped and giggled cruelly at the look she received from one of the people sitting two seats away, laughing at their reaction.

  
Evelynn didn't show for the next hour. A different bartender took her place and served her the same blue drink over and over again without a single word mentioned.

  
By her sixth drink, Alita was feeling guilty.

  
By her seventh drink, that guiltiness had turned into confidence.

  
By her eighth drink, that confidence had turned into foolishness.

  
And by her ninth drink, she was ready to throw caution to the winds, craning her head haphazardly over the top of other patrons in the vicinity, sweeping around for Evelynn. A brief image of blonde flashed in her periphery, but a closer look revealed someone else whose face was far too rugged and eyes far too dull.

  
After a while, Alita returned to her seat, fiddling around with her tenth drink. Her body was telling her to stop, and that it was going to put up a fight and punish her for abusing her stomach so easily, but Alita didn't care. When she was drunk, it was so easy to just let go.

  
She hiccuped again and quickly downed her tenth. Her vision grew dark for a solid second, but then returned to her when she heard a familiar voice.

  
"Did you really drink that much?"

  
Alita was peering wistfully out at the dance floor. The moment she heard Evelynn's voice she turned toward her and the act left her dizzy.

  
Evelynn rushed forward and steadied Alita.

  
"Oh, Alita," she murmured, and she heard her, even in the loud atmosphere.

  
"Where did you go?" the girl slurred, blinking her eyes rapidly to get a better focus.

  
"I'm sorry. One of the bartenders fell ill so I had to cover him for a while. But I'm back now."

  
Alita frowned. "Why couldn't someone else do that? Cover for him, I mean."

  
Even with her pounding headache, she still saw Evelynn crack a smirk.

  
"Are you saying you didn't want me to go?"

  
When Alita answered, her voice was higher than normal.

  
"What, n-no! I just-I mean..." she tapered off. "You're just interesting to talk to?"

  
Evelynn read her for a few seconds.

  
"Alita, is this what it's about? You drank almost twice as much as usual because you missed me?" Her voice was chastising, but the smile on her face betrayed her.

  
"No!" Alita refuted, then groaned. "Yes," she admitted, giving in. "Yes, okay? Maybe I did miss you. And maybe that's because you're the only one here who has any knowledge of how to act normally! You're talking to me like another human being and I see all these emotions and expressions just flit across your face like a changing television, and you're just...just...just behaving like no one else ever does! Even if I can't fucking remember anything the day after, I gravitate back to you because I know there's something about you that no one else has. And maybe it's because of that, that you're the only person here I look forward to talking to." She fell silent. "How's that for an answer?" she finished sarcastically.

  
Evelynn's face fell stony. "What about at home?"

  
Alita shook her head and cringed as her headache spiked.

  
"When I said here, I meant here as in Zalem. I don't have a home."

  
"You don't have a home? Where-"

  
Alita cut her off.

  
"I have a place to live, but it's not my home."

  
Evelynn hesitated, but then made up her mind. She brought her hands forward, her palms facing upwards on the bar counter.

  
Alita stared at her and then slipped her hands into Evelynn's. The moment she did, a sharp crackle of electricity coursed throughout her body, much like it did the other times they touched, and Alita's eyelids inadvertently fluttered.

  
"Where is your home then?" Evelynn challenged.

  
Alita gulped, struggling to place the proper words on her tongue.

  
"Inaccessible," she said, her voice a soft whisper.

  
Alita was never a sad drunk, but there was always a first for everything. She felt the signs of oncoming tears beginning to form in the back her eyes and she rapidly blinked, trying to dispel them.

  
"Hey." Alita peered at Evelynn. When she spoke, her voice was soft with emotion. "It's okay to let go."

  
"I'm not crying," Alita affirmed, although her voice betrayed her by trembling in the process.

  
"Crying isn't a weakness." Evelynn squeezed her hands.

  
That was all Alita needed to hear. She ripped her hands out from Evelynn's and brought them to her face in a vain attempt to cover the explosion of tears that rocketed down her face. Tears that had never seen the light of day. Tears that had been locked deep inside her, and for the first time in a whole year, she cried. And now that they were spilling out, she couldn't stop them.

  
Evelynn gently pulled on Alita's wrists until the girl shifted her weight forward, close enough that Evelynn could wrap her arms around the girl's tiny shoulderblades.

  
"Sometimes you just have to let it all out," Evelynn said, unsure if Alita could even hear what she was saying. But Alita could. The soft rumble of Evelynn's chest as she spoke captured her attention, even if she was full-blown sobbing.

  
"Sometimes you just have to let it all out," she repeated. "Your emotions will sit and fester if you don't. No one can do that, no matter how strong they are. But it's okay," she continued. "It's what makes us human."

  
Her last words made Alita's wails increase in dynamics, if possible, and for a second she wondered if it was the wrong thing to say. But by the way Alita heaves a monumental sigh and her body slackening in Evelynn's grip a few moments later, it wasn't.

  
The two stayed in their position for a very, long time. The music blared on in the background. People returned to their respective seats, resuming their conversations of nothingness. In the few minutes that they hold each other, some patrons behest Evelynn to pour them drinks, but their requests quickly faded when Evelynn them down with dirty looks.

  
Alita's shaking and hiccups slowly tapered off, and with that, the spell was broken. Alita briefly tightened her fists around Evelynn's shirt one last time before she leaned backward, passing along the signal to break apart. She wasn't sure who initiated it first, but they pulled apart from one another almost abashedly.

  
Alita's eyes were swollen and red, and her nose was dripping snot to which she mindlessly rubbed, creating a trail of stickiness along her forearm. She knew she looked a mess, but she was more concerned at the display of vulnerability than how unkempt she was.

  
"Alita."

  
At her name, Alita looked up.

  
"I'm sorry about your uniform," she croaked.

  
Evelynn's uniform was a mess. With all the relentless snot and tears that had escaped Alita's confines, her shirt now looked like someone had thrown something shiny and sticky in an attempt to display a new genre of art. Both sides of her shirt had stretch marks on them, where Alita had balled her fists around.

  
Evelynn's eyes flashed with fire.

  
"You are worth far more than a million of my uniforms, Alita."

  
Evelynn's nameplate had also detached from her uniform and landed right between the pair on the counter in plain sight. And Alita's heart only swelled further when the woman picked it up, fingered it, but then decided not to pin it on.

  
"Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" Evelynn asked her out of the blue.

  
She had to bite her tongue hard to stop her initial thoughts of the matter. A solid Yes resonated through her heart at first, but her brain spoke a different tune.

  
Evelynn must have mistaken her hesitancy for something it wasn't.

  
"I mean, you don't have to," she said, and Alita frowned at the strange sight of how unsure she sounded. "It was just an offer, I know we don't really know each other and that would be strange-"

  
Alita raised her hand to stop Evelynn's babble.

  
"I would like to," she said.

  
Evelynn's postures relaxed but then her shoulders stiffened again.

  
"But I can't."

  
"Oh."

  
Alita gives her a sad little smile.

  
"You've taken care of me in more ways than one, Evelynn. You're the first person I've met in Zalem and whose presence I've actually enjoyed. But..." Alita looked down at her thighs. "But you don't know who I am. You don't know what I'm capable of and what I've done."

  
"I know enough to say that your heart is showing, and it's showing me something good."

  
Alita shook her head. "I'm dangerous."

  
"But that's not who you are, Alita. It's a path that you've been pushed onto. Whatever you've done in the past, or even now, it's not who you are. I don't need glasses to see that."

  
Alita didn't know how to respond to that.

  
The sound of a large hammer struck a bell dangling in the middle of the building. Like clockwork, the music stopped, and with it, the people. Limbs stopped swaying, and conversation stilled. Like a synchronized act, everyone stood up and began shuffling out the heavy metal doors in the front, leaving a large mess to clean for the bartenders. And Alita.

  
"Here," Evelynn said, turning Alita's attention back to them. "I'm not pressuring you to come home with me. No worries, okay? I just want to make sure you get to your ho- back safely. You've consumed about half your body's weight in alcohol, and I'm worried for you."

  
"I'll be okay," Alita replied. Vaguely she remembered all the times she was alone and had to tell herself that. But this time, she felt like she actually meant it.

  
"Let me give you my contact information anyways," Evelynn said, still directing her full attention on Alita and refusing to join her other bartenders in throwing out waste. "Unless you happen to remember it?" she quirked her eyebrow.

  
"Um..."

  
"I figured." Evelynn rolled her eyes, but Alita knew she was teasing. "I've been whispering it in your ear every night we meet. This time I'll do it differently." She gestures for Alita's arm and received a strange look in response.

  
"You've never done this before?"

  
Alita gave a small shake of her head. Evelynn thought to herself for a second.

  
"Alright, well there's nothing to it. You already know how to pay for your drinks. Just open the menu and slide it over to 'Social'.

  
Alita does as she's told, opening a tab she had never opened previously. And it was blatantly apparent too, because the entire screen that projected out of her arm was blank. Empty.

  
Contactless.

  
She heard Evelynn exhale with a loud whoosh and immediately began to yank her arm back.

  
"No," Evelynn demanded, grabbing her arm and holding it in place. "Sorry. It's just took me by surprise, that's all."

  
"You must think I'm sort of a freak. An outcast, a social pari-"

  
"Alita, stop talking. I'm happy to be your first." And with that, she punched in her contact information, finishing it up with a beep. The screen vanished.

  
"There. Now you have someone. Something to look forward to."

  
Alita was still shit-faced drunk and that might've contributed to what she did next, but she found that she didn't care in the slightest.

  
Both of them went toppling over the counter as Alita launched herself at Evelynn, wrapping her arms around her waist and hugging her tightly.

  
"Oof!"

  
"Thank you. For everything."

  
Evelynn wheezed. "You can thank me by not squeezing me to death."

  
At that, Alita loosened her grip.

  
"Oops. Sorry!"

  
Evelynn chuckled, Alita's chest rising at the warm sound.

  
"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

  
Evelynn asked it as a simple question, but Alita knew that there was an undercurrent of nervousness and a plea underneath.

  
"I've never missed a day, have I?"

  
Evelynn's face broke out into a goofy grin.

  
"Nope. Although I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, you coming in here to drink yourself silly."

  
"It's a good thing," Alita said with conviction. "Not because of the drinking, but because I get to see you."

  
"Wow, so you are capable of being smooth."

  
"Tonight just feels...different. I'm starting to feel more like the old me," Alita confessed, looking into Evelynn's eyes to see how she would take it.

  
"Well if that's the case, I'd like to see more of the old you then."

  
"I'll try."

  
"Are you sure you don't want me to call you a cab?"

  
"Have you ever called me a cab before?" Alita retorted, pushing herself back over the counter and gave her a wave.

  
"No." Evelynn squinted her eyes, knowing where this was going. "Smartass," she muttered.

  
Alita was already almost out the door when she turned around, glancing at the blonde woman one last time only to find that her broken glasses were still uncleaned because Evelynn's attention was solely on her.

  
"Evelynn!"

  
"Yeah?"

  
Alita pointed. "Don't forget your nametag. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

  
Evelynn gave her a thumbs up before picking up her badge and pinning it back onto her crusted uniform. Even at the distance she was at, Alita could still read the font as clear as day.

  
_Evelynn_  
_23_  
_Slur Bartender_

  
The thought of Evelynn in every crevice of her mind carried her home, tucked her into bed, and helped her to fall asleep. And for the very first time in a year, Alita slept soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update as frequently as possible, but with a busy schedule, updating will be sporadic.


End file.
